Two Years Later
by LoveHGSS
Summary: Sequel to In the Men's Room, but probably could be read alone. It's been two years since Emily left, and Derek Morgan is a mess. Is there anything that can make it better?


Summary – Sequel to In the Men's Room, but probably could be read alone. It's been two years since Emily left, and Derek Morgan is a mess. Is there anything that can make it better?

This is for both Romy and Stacey, who asked for a sequel. Well, here it is, ladies, hope you enjoy it!

**Warning – 18 and over **_**only**_** please. Sexual content.**

It had been exactly two years since Emily Prentiss took her last breath. This day found Derek Morgan laying on his bed, knowing that no one else in the BAU would show up for work either. It was nearly noon, but he had no intention of moving further than the bathroom for the next few hours. He absently stroked the pillow beside him, imagining what she'd say to him if she was there.

"_Stop being so mopey."_

One corner of his mouth twitched upwards, but no full smile came to his handsome face. He closed his eyes for a moment, but regretted it almost immediately. There she was, lying on a cold, hard floor with a wooden stake protruding from her stomach. Her hands were freezing and clammy when he took them into his own. His words were all but forgotten, but they were muted in his memory; all he heard was 'let me go'. He had wanted to scream at her, to tell her he would never let her go, that he refused to live a single day without her, but the words hadn't come out right.

A single tear leaked out from his closed eyelids, a shaky breath leaving him as he turned to his side, curling into the fetal position. He berated himself, telling himself for the millionth time if he had been there just a few moments before, he'd have Emily in his arms and the world would be a perfect place. But in reality, she wasn't there and Derek blamed no one but himself. He knew each member of the team thought it was their own fault, but they hadn't been the one to hold her hand as she was dying. They hadn't been there to see the stake in her stomach or the way her eyes were begging to close for good.

But he couldn't show that. He had to be strong, the support system to both Reid and Garcia. Even though Penelope had Kevin, he wasn't as understanding to her ups and downs quite yet, leaving Derek as the main one she'd run to when she was having a "bad Emily day". Hotch and Rossi kept their emotions to themselves, barely even acknowledging that she wasn't there. Sometimes it made him angry; the fact that the two bosses of the BAU were just ignoring that she was gone. Reid was so afraid to be emotional around Hotch that he clammed up, barely speaking a word about her unless he was around Derek. It was as if he thought Hotch was a ticking time bomb waiting to happen. Some days, Morgan thought that, too.

The hardest part was keeping their relationship to himself. He didn't want to put that burden on anyone. To know that Emily could have, would have, been happy and healthy and loved by anyone, whether it have been him or not, made him sick to his stomach. He could only imagine the pitying looks he would have received had he spoken up. When he'd close his eyes, he pictured Emily standing before him in a fluffy white dress, her hair done up and her makeup perfect, just as it always was. He'd envision her normally flat stomach rounded and filled with their child growing inside her. He could see her rocking their children to sleep, cooing mushy words of love and smiling like she hadn't a care in the world.

But that would never happen. He had to constantly remind himself that she was gone, or he knew he'd spend forever dreaming of a day that would never come. He'd considered therapy, but quickly banished the idea, knowing he couldn't break the confidentiality of the cases surrounding her death. So he did what he had done since he was a child; he sucked it up, tucking it away until he was home alone. He'd long since stopped crying, having not a single ounce of moisture left to fill his overused tear ducts. Today was different, though.

Today was the day he lost his best friend, his confidant, the love he'd never gotten the chance to appreciate. He'd thrown it away because of their jobs, because he never thought she saw his as more than a fuck buddy. He wondered, as he often did, if things would be different had he have told her his feelings sooner. If, maybe, just maybe, he'd confessed he wanted her to be his so long ago, that she would have taken a different path. She might have told him, trusted him more. Or maybe not.

Conflicted with such harsh emotions and thoughts, Derek pulled the blankets up higher, squeezing his eyes shut tight and praying to a god he scarcely believed in, to just let him dream of her for awhile. To see her smiling and happy. To see her alive. He didn't care about the rest. He just wanted to hear her heartbeat. He fought against the horrid images of her bleeding, but they still flashed before his eyes. All the images of her laughing came to the forefront of his mind and that was almost worse. But he held tight to those memories, running them in slow-motion, trying his hardest to remember the sound of her laugh. He swore he could hear it faintly, and that brought on a whole new wave of emotion just as sleep began to overtake him. For not the first time, Derek Morgan cried himself to sleep.

"Derek."

He groaned against the noise, rolling onto his back and clearing some of the sleep from his eyes. He blinked against the harsh evening light coming in through his bedroom window, and was just about to turn away from it when inhaled deeply. That smell. He _knew_ that smell. Turning his head, he saw a vision of beauty so unmatched it was more blinding than the sun. Quickly realizing he was dreaming, he reached out and pulled the dream woman on top of him without warning, causing her to squeal and giggle. He held her so tightly he could barely breathe, auburn hair falling into his face.

"Emily," he sighed, smiling widely as she situated on top of him, her legs on either side of his hips curling beneath her, her face burying into his neck.

"Not the homecoming I was expecting," she murmured, placing a gently kiss on his dark skin.

"Don't leave," he begged, his large hands scouring her back, which was scarcely covered by a thin tank top.

"Derek?" she asked. "Sweetie, you're crushing me."

"I don't care," he breathed out. "I've never had a dream this real."

"Dream?" she laughed. "Derek, let me up. Look at me."

"No!" he said desperately. "No, I'm not letting you go. I can't… I can't let you go. I probably only have another few minutes before you disappear, I am not letting go."

"Shh," she murmured, blinding groping for the side of his face in order to gently stroke his cheek. "Listen to me. You're awake. I'm here. I'm alive. I didn't die, Derek."

"You always say that," he chuckled, reaching up and running his fingers through her short hair. "Your hair is never this different though. I like it. It's sexy."

Emily let out a frustrated sigh. A light bulb went off in her head and she pinched his cheek hard.

"Ow!" he cried out, squirming beneath her. "That really hurt!"

Realization donned on him and he panicked. His heart raced, his palms began to sweat, his body shook from head to toe. A harsh intake of breath was what cued Emily into the fact that Derek was outright sobbing. He nearly suffocated her as his arms tightened even more around her, trying to feel every singly inch of her body against his own.

"Oh, God," he said. "Emily… Oh, thank you, God."

"Oh, baby," she murmured, struggling for breath but not having the heart to tell him to stop. Tears burned her own eyes and she clung to his black shirt, biting her lip to keep out the groan threatening to leave her as her ribs throbbed painfully from his strong hold.

"Let me see you," he whispered after a few moments, loosening his grip.

Emily used his shoulders as leverage, raising herself up just enough to make eye contact with him. His hands came up and cupped her jaw, his thumbs stroking her cheeks, which were moist from the tears cascading down her face. She laughed nervously as his eyes hungrily took her in, a huge smile appearing on his lips, crinkling his eyes.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he choked out.

Derek combed his hands through her hair, enjoying the silky strands between his fingers. Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, the dreams she'd had nonstop paling in comparison to the real thing.

"I've missed you," she admitted, rubbing her hands on his firm chest.

"I've missed _you_," he replied, slowly drawing her back down. "Before I lose my mind, what the hell happened?" 

"The quick version?" she asked, her brain hazing over the closer to him she got.

He nodded.

"Doyle wasn't dead, they put me in protective custody, I was on the run, found an old friend who knew where he was, and I paid more money than I care to admit to have him assassinated by the best in the world."

"He's dead?" Derek asked, double-checking.

"I got to see the body," she confirmed. "It's all off record, so I'm safe to be back for good. No investigations, no worries."

"Good enough for me," he mumbled before pulling her the last few inches.

The moment their lips met, it was as if a hundred pounds had been lifted off their shoulders. Emily's bottom lip nestled perfectly between Derek's lips, their eyes sliding shut in tandem. She tilted her head to the side in order to deepen their kiss, her tongue skimming along his full bottom lip. He opened up to her, wasting no time in meeting her halfway. There was no battle for dominance, no franticness, just a few minutes of familiarizing themselves with the unique feel and flavor of the other.

"I love you," he whispered between deep kisses.

Emily sighed happily. "I love you, too."

"I love you," he repeated, slinking his arms around her back to hold her close.

She giggled as he nipped her bottom lip. "Love you."

"Don't ever leave me like that again," he growled.

"Never," she agreed.

He kissed the corner of her mouth. "I love you." Her cheek. "I love you." Up her jaw. "I love you." He went like that until his lips were hovering near her ear. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I just… it's been so long and I… I just… I can't stop saying it."

Emily laughed lightly. "It's okay, Derek," she assured him. "I plan on replying back to each one of those." She mimicked his actions, kissing all over his face and whispering her love for him.

Once she made it back to his lips, he kissed her deeply, savoring the feel of her tongue sliding along his. Kicking at the blankets, Derek managed to remove them so he could easily flip them, covering her body with his own. He took his time in removing her shirt, rocking back on his knees so she could sit up as he took it over her head. Her bra followed immediately after, his eyes locking onto her full breasts, moisture filling his eyes as he saw the red outline of a four-leaf clover marring her otherwise perfect skin.

"It's alright," she assured him, stroking his cheek. "Doesn't even hurt anymore."

"If I'd only been there sooner," he whispered.

"No, Derek, no," she said hurriedly. "Don't you ever say that." He went to turn his face away from her but she cupped his jaw, forcing him to meet her eyes again. "Listen to me. This was my fault. _Mine_. I did this, not you. There was nothing that you could have done. Do you hear me?"

He nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. "I hear you."

"Good," she said with a smile, leaning in and kissing him tenderly.

Derek responded after a moment, pressing his torso to hers, following her back until she was completely against the bed. Her arms slipped beneath his, tugging on his shirt until he reluctantly broke the kiss so she could take it off him. They shed each other of all other garments in the same fashion, no rush to their movements. He entered her slowly, allowing her tight heat to stretch in order to accommodate him. Emily's legs went around his lower back, her hands clutching his strong upper arms once he was fully seated within her.

"Feels better than I remember," she panted against his lips.

He nodded in agreement, but didn't have the ability to form a single word as her velvet walls pulsed around his cock. After a moment be began moving his hips back and forth at a leisurely pace, taking the time to really feel every single inch of her, both inside and out. Her hips rose off the bed to meet his every thrust, never once trying to quicken nor slow his rhythm. She clung to him as her orgasm took her over, the weight of his body only taking her higher and higher. He came on her command, wanting to feel him fall apart just as she was. She held onto him, refusing to allow him to move for nearly half an hour. He placed kisses on her lips, her face, her neck.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear.

Emily ran her hands up and down his muscular back, enjoying his smooth skin beneath her fingers. "I love you, too, Derek."

He rose up on his elbows to look deeply into her dark brown eyes. "And don't you _ever_ leave me again. Understood?"

A wide smile appeared on her still-flushed face. "Yes, sir."

_A/N – Please take just a moment out to review, it'd really make my day! Thank you so much!_


End file.
